


the holy men may speak of paradise

by Anonymous



Category: Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Sibling Incest, Viking-typical morals, Vinland Saga Manga Spoilers, due to Vikings, to volume 19, yknow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-08 08:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21232961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Atli dreams.





	the holy men may speak of paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 日本語 available: [聖人は楽園を語る](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825650) by Anonymous 

He sees Torgrim before him some nights, not many—brother, bedmate, beside him in the snow. Brother first, bedmate next, starting in the fumbling days of their dawning manhood. Never shaming him by taking him where others might hear, just the comfort of heat by his side on the coldest of nights and a still-warmer hand on his prick to ease the ache of travel. A laugh in his ear as he responds, every time, spilling himself into straw or blanket with the only presence he's ever trusted at his back.

Some nights, the better nights, it’s Torgrim as he was, blood drying under his fingernails and seed drying on the hairs of his belly, there to shelter his stupid little brother's weak heart and willing arse from the whole world and the gods above. On the others it's Torgrim as he is—please, gods, still _is_—and he welcomes even that. If his brother can never die a warrior now, then he welcomes every second he can believe they’re still together. He’s glad, almost, that Torgrim can’t run off to Valhalla alone, because Atli will surely never set foot in those halls.

Nights with the Torgrim of old are the only time he comes now. He was raped a few times in the beginning, but the fun fades quickly with captives who must be kept alive, and of late the Jomsvikings have even given up reminding him how his arse was looser than any other man they've taken. There are others younger and more hairless to sport themselves with. (He came for them, yes, but he's proud he's never dreamed of them. "Atli," the dream says, every time. "My Atli.")

He hopes the word he moans in his sleep is, "Torgrim," and not, "Brother," but he thinks it might hardly matter now. Whatever the gods may call a crime on earth, his eternity is long since decided, and none of it was decided in his brother's arms. The first sin in this world is weakness, and the gods must know this onetime warrior lingers now only in fragments, in dim awareness, in dreams of long lost valor with his lost other half. He knows not where his brother's _munr_ dwells, in Midgård or somewhere beyond or in halves, but this half-conscious chosen dream is where his own lingers, in the only shred of "Paradise" the conquered are allowed to grasp.


End file.
